Darkly Everafter
by Daisy-Chan
Summary: [ONESHOT]She knows that his heart will forever reserved for his dead wife.Still,it won't hurt to try winning it for herself,right?


**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing. This is a fanfic written for entertainment only.

**A/N:** An idea gotten from listening to Nox Arcana's music with the same title. Here's a one-shot piece featuring someone's POV that will be revealed at the end of the story. You can guess who while reading though. XD

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_It's been so long._

_Too long._

_Way too long._

I thought fulfilling your every request will improve our relationship and that you will eventually forget her. I thought by yielding to your every demand you will move your attention to only me. Not her who had been dead for five years now.

Me. Me, myself and I. Me.

Me, the one who's been harbouring feelings as strong as she did towards you ever since the first time I saw you. Me, the one who's been silently watching you conversed happily with her during your visits, which are regular, to the library. Me, the one who balled my hands into fists, gritting my teeth and silently cursed at the sight of her happy face when she managed to crack a smile on your face, to let a laugh escape from your lips. The very lips that I wanted so much to plant my first kiss onto.

Only that she managed to steal yours right in front of my eyes. And it was in the library no less, the place where both of you often meet after your shift ended at the shop. I still remembered the embarrassed-yet somewhat happy-look on your and her face after being caught doing that. Oh, how I want to slap her for stealing something I've been trying to reach, longing to have.

I bet you never know how much I loathed her, how much I wish that I was her and she was me. I honestly don't mind the fact that if I were to be her, I would be resting six feet deep under the ground next to the church right now because your thoughts are so full of her even though she is dead and I am the one who's standing beside you right now. May I add that you actually think of her a lot more than usual now that she's gone?

I am your current wife while she is nothing more than a piece of photograph in your memory album that you should burn – pictures of me and you should be the ones filling up said album now that she is no longer here. But alas, up until now that never happened for you never want to let her go; volunteering to be chained to a person who was no longer walking on the earth alive.

Do you know that faking happiness whenever I was told stories about you and her really hurts me? Do you know how hard it is to pretend to be a happy best friend when she told me about your marriage with her while hugging me tight? I choked on air, but not because of the tightness of her hug but at the news and at the smile you gave her while watching her squeezing me to death, both physically and emotionally – it's not like her to be this jumpy but I understand the joy she's feeling towards the proposal she's just received from you. I tried so hard to make you smile like that at me since Harvest Goddess knows when but sadly none of my efforts worth it; you never once smile that kind of smile at me.

I cried during the day you exchanged vows with her. It was a good thing that you, she and everyone else thought that I was crying because I was happy though otherwise I'll never be able to explain the reason I shed tears during an occasion branded as a joyous one by the people of Mineral Town. Picturing you in my own room spending the rest of your life with her pained me and the wound kept getting bigger as I saw how happy you were with her, how easy it is for her to animate the grumpy, grouch and hard-to-smile-and-laugh living doll called Gray Wellington – I've never succeed in accomplishing said feat.

I feel defeated. I feel cheated. I thought there's something between you and me and that we will eventually get married and have children. Oh, woe is me for Fate didn't favor me the 'happily ever after' ending with you that I've had always dream about.

I have lost my interest in continue living ever since you married her. I've been thinking of committing suicide for it hurts so much going through the day without you by my side. Oh, don't get me wrong. Even though you are married you've never stop that regular visits of yours to the library. It was the only place where I can see and talk to you freely, even though she, your wife was there as well. Well, she was my best friend after all.

Was. Because from the day that she took you away from me, I detested her existence. There were no days passed I spent without cursing her, hoping that something bad will befall her. I hate her so much I feel like killing her with my own hands. But doing so will shame me and-as much as I hated to admit this-hurt you so I refrained tainting my hands with the blood of your precious wife.

I am glad I've been holding myself doing something that I'll regret for the rest of my life. It's like Lady Luck finally took pity on me for she granted me my one and only wish; to be able to live by your side as your wife. The wife you held so dear passed away only three seasons after your marriage with her because of an illness my mind failed to remember what. Why bother anyway? I have a much more important thing to think; my chance to be with you is finally here.

I watched you cried your heart out in the clinic-I'm your wife's best friend so I have to be there during her final moments-as she breathed out her last breath. Do you know that that time the tears that I spilled were actually caused by happiness; by the pleasant feelings I'm feeling because she will no longer hog you, that the strings she attached to you were broken, that you're now free and I will finally be able to fulfill my dream of being together with you?

It was a hard time though, making you to accept me. I know that you are so into her but since Lady Luck is still by my side, you eventually came to accept me as a year after that her departure, you once again recite your vow – this time it was to me.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

_It's been so long._

_Too long._

_Way too long._

The days we spent as husband and wife were much longer than the ones you shared with her. You are very kind to me and never once you yelled at me. It was kind of amusing because you usually yelled at your grandfather and that the personality you've shown to everyone else labelled you as an ass; someone who is difficult to approach, much less being friendly to others.

Then why do I feel unsatisfied? Why do I feel that something is missing between us?

The loving gazes you gave me, the warmth feelings of your skin when it meets mine, the soft touch of your fingers as you stroke my hair during the time we cuddled on the sofa, watching television together and the smiles and laughs you let out when we talked…

They were never meant for me, were they not?

They're for her; the one whom you married before me and whose presence very much matters to you, overwhelming you. I know because of the things you made me do – the way you alter my personality, how I dressed, how I look and even the way I speak. I don't think you realized that the wedding picture on the end table next to our bed is not one of ours; it was a picture of your and her wedding day.

You never really care for me, do you?

Even after what I've done for you for the past five years.

Even when I've thrown away my true self just so you can have a wife that live up to your standard, to your preference of an ideal woman.

Even when I am this obsessed about you.

Come to think about it, I never ask you about how you truly feel about me. Yes, you've several times claimed that you love me but were those really true? If they were, then why did your lips cry out her, your dead wife's name during our love-making session?

No.

No more.

I can't take this no longer. I determined to find out the truth tonight, during the dinner we're going to have as a celebration to our 5 years anniversary – which coincidentally is the same day with the previous one you've had with her.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

_It's been so long._

_Too long._

_Way too long._

It feels like eternity waiting for you to come back home. I've prepared meals that I'm sure you're going to find them delicious – they're all lined up neatly on the dining table in the kitchen.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror in front of me as my right hand ran freely through the strands of my blonde hair. I've had always like my hair, you know. I surely hope that you do like this new style of mine or else my efforts on keeping this long hair will all be wasted. You really love this color, don't you? I remember more than 20 times you commented on how vibrant and energetic the color my hair is.

"I'm home," I heard you called from the living room and I hurriedly exited the bathroom because I don't want to make you wait for me in this precious evening we're going to spend together.

"Welcome home, Gray."

You smiled. "Thanks. I'm sorry for being late. This,"you said as you took out a brooch from one of the many pockets of your jacket. "Took some time to finish," you chuckled and handed me the brooch.

"It's really beautiful," I smiled happily as I took the brooch from your hand, examining the exquisite shape of the brooch. "It must be very hard to make this," I added as I lifted my face to yours. "Thank you, Gray."

"Anything for you," you replied as you planted a kiss on my forehead. "Happy Anniversary, honey."

"...Happy Anniversary, Gray. Now why don't you go take a shower and change? I've cooked lots of delicious food and they're lined up on the table, waiting for you to taste them," I forced a smile for the happy feelings I've had before vanished to nowhere.

"Will do," you chuckled and leaved the living room, entering the bathroom I was in before.

I entered the kitchen and walked towards the trash can near the fridge. I spared the brooch in my hand one last look before gritting my teeth at it and throw it inside the can – I hated the ore you used making the brooch; it reminded me of her eyes. I turned to the table and worked on arranging the plates, glasses, knife, spoons and forks. I went to the fridge and took out the grape wine I bought in the morning at Aja's Winery. I poured its content into the two glasses arranged neatly beside the plates. You come out from the bathroom wearing clean clothes-I've always prepared a set of clean clothes for both of us in the bathroom-and made your way towards me.

"That was fast," I raised an eyebrow at you.

"Wouldn't want to make you wait long," you winked at me. "Well, well, well," you continued as you examined the food in front of you. "They looked appetizing! You really went all out today, didn't you?"

"Only the best for my husband," I giggled as I placed down the wine on the table and walked towards my seat with you doing the same. I raised my glass full of wine to you. "To our 5 years of being together."

You nodded, raising your glass and grinned at me. "To our 5 years of being together. And you can rest assure that there will definitely be more years to come for both of us," you said and with a tinkle sound of our glasses touching each other, you brought yours to your lips and drink its content in one gulp. "Ah, that hits the spot," you commented as you placed the glass in hand down. "Hm? You're not going to drink?

I shook my head at your question and mimicked your action placing down my glass. "No, not really. I don't really fancy myself getting paralyzed by the poison I put in the wine."

"Wh –––"

I smirked as I watched you brought a hand to cover your mouth and started coughing. You looked at me in horror and I can tell that you wanted to ask why am I doing this, why am I poisoning you.

"Well, I wanted to have a talk with you, Gray. I know that you will evade this kind of talk because you surely did before – a lot of times before," I rose from my seat and walked towards the coughing you.

"What – you," standing up and staring straight at me, you brought another hand to your chest as you coughed more. "Claire –"

My eyebrows narrowed at the name and unconsciously I grabbed the knife lying innocently near the spoon next to me, in front of you and stabbed you right on your chest.

"Ahh!" you yelped in pain and coughed more-this time with blood-before staggering a few steps backwards and fall down onto the floor – the white tablecloth you managed to grab before backing away fall with you onto the floor, taking with it all the meals I've prepared specially for this anniversary.

"Oh, dear. Look at the wasted food," I gasped as I watched the food scattered around the floor, edible no more. "It'll be quite a work to clean them all off, Gray," I said and turned back and walked closer to you. "But it's okay. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Gray. You know that, don't you?"

Pressing a hand on your wounded chest, you stared at me in disbelief. "W-what is wrong with you, Claire?"

"Again with the name?!" I shouted, launching myself down towards you and stabbed you again. This time, I care less the location on your body that I stabbed. "Why are you always calling out that name?!"

You screamed in pain as the tip of the knife in my hand sinking itself again in your body. "What-what are you talking-about?" you replied between coughs and gritted teeth. "Claire, I –"

Stab.

"Claire, y –"

Stab. Stab.

"Claire – "

Stab. Stab. Stab.

"Cla – "

"That's not my name! That's not my name! That's not my name!" I exclaimed as I continued stabbing your body again and again, never caring the pain you're suffering, the scream you're letting out and the pleas for me to stop you're begging. "Even with this modified version of myself that I did just for you, I am not Claire!" I continued, my blurry-with-tears eyes watched your pained expression as I repeatedly stabbing you. "Stop calling me with that name! I hate her! I hate her! I hate her!"

Panting from exhaustion, I paused from the stabbing I've been doing. I glanced down at you and finally realized why you've been silent all the way I've been abusing your body.

You are dead.

You; my love, my precious, my dearest is dead.

The bloody knife falls down from my hand onto the floor next to your corpse as I brought both hands to cover my mouth. "Oh, Harvest Goddess. What have I done?" I leaned closer to your face, examining your eyes – they were dull and no longer possessed the lively sparks that the eyes of a living person have. "Gray! My Gray! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I started sobbing as I lie on top of you, burying my face on your bloody shirt, ignoring the fact that my face will be smeared with blood by doing so. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Gray," I said between sobs as I tightened my grip on your wet shirt. "I just…I just want to hear you call my name, Gray. You…you do remember my name, ri-right?"

Seconds after I didn't receive any reply from you, I lifted my face from your chest, staring down at your face. "Y-you don't remember?" I asked another question. Still you kept quiet. "W-we've been together l-longer than you with C-Claire. S-surely you remembered t-the times we spent t-together in the library, y-yes? I a-am Mary. Will you not say my name? Mary. Mary. Ma – "

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**A/N: **Well, that was fun, although this turned out to be longer than I intended it to be. Ahaha. Anyway, did you get your guess right? XD

EDIT: Thanks to blacksunset1214 for pointing some of my so-many typos. XD And just to avoid confusion and stuff, I'll include here the brief explanation for this story. The POV belonged to Mary, Gray's current wife while the deceased wife is Claire. Gray can never accept the fact that Claire is dead-he was obsessed with Claire much as Mary is obsessed with him-so he made Mary dye her hair blonde and made her wear clothes the same as Claire's. In his eyes he sees only the image of his late wife,even though Mary still wears her glasses. Simply put there's something wrong with Gray's mentality after Claire's death. XD XD Mary and the townspeople are aware of this and since Mary never express her uneasiness about Gray calling him 'Claire'-Mary is a good person after all-, they let them be. After all, meddling in one's marriage life is...you know. Kinda rude? X"D


End file.
